Codependent
by Nea's world
Summary: NEWTs are coming and two of Hogwart's biggest pranksters are studying... both books and the friends around them.


Whatever is recognized belongs to someone else. Enjoy! **_

* * *

_**

"Have you ever noticed?"

"Noticed what?" James asked, flipping through the glossary of his Charms book, quickly jotting down a note no-one else in their right mind would be able to decipher. He flipped back to the chapter then reached for another book, frowning at the text found there.

"Remus and Peter."

James made another note, stuck his tongue in his cheek, his brows drawn. "Uh-huh."

Sirius rolled his eyes and waited until James stopped frowning. Then he set his hand over the book that was directly in front of his friend.

James blinked a few times and then looked up. "Huh? What'd I miss?"

Sirius rolled his eyes again, but smiled good-naturedly. "I asked you if you ever noticed."

"I vaguely recall that. Noticed what?"

"Remus and Peter."

James quirked a brow, and then reached up to pull his glasses off. "Sirius, Padfoot, fellow Marauder, my dear brother…" He said all of this calmly, cleaning his glasses with the hem of his over-large sleeve. "I don't have a clue who you're talking about. Slytherin first years, maybe? I mean, it's not like they—whoever they are—are in our house, our dorm or even—are our friends."

Sirius snorted a soft laugh, glancing reflexively over his shoulder at the librarian. She got scary around the major exams, throwing people out for eating so much as a single every-flavor bean if she caught them, then barring them from returning until she felt they were penitent. Sirius was good at looking innocent… sometimes. Today he didn't feel like risking it.

He looked back at their table, covered as it was with books, notes, half-rolled bits of unfinished scrolls, sugar quills and a pile of chocolate frog cards being used as make-shift markers and his lips twisted comically.

James, after having lived with him more or less all of the last seven years, followed his thoughts and chuckled softly. "Oh, how the mighty have fallen. The Marauders, studying for exams."

Sirius sighed. "Yeah… but they're important, now. You've got Lily to think of, and I… I can't just sit around and be the pureblood heir anymore, even if I wanted to, which—Prongs, if I ever do, kill me."

"Of course, mate. Now, what were you on about?"

"I only really noticed it recently. Moony's been watching me sort of… sadly."

James frowned, casting his thoughts back. "I noticed that yesterday, actually, but didn't think anything of it. Distracted by Lily and something to do with charms… You've caught it more than that?"

"Yeah. I think he expects the four of us to never speak after graduation, or something."

"Well, you still have a while to work on him."

"He's too bloody proud," Sirius grumbled. He found his fingers curled around the key in his pocket before he realized he was moving. He sighed, pulling it out, studying his warped reflection in the dull brass. "Am I so horrible to live with?"

"Like you said, he's too bloody proud. I… I suppose, in a way, we haven't been that good for him."

"What? Of course we've been good for him! We've been better than—"

"Exactly! How many people do you suppose are going to clap him on the back and offer him a job saying 'it's okay, just a few hours out of a month'?" James actually snapped the quill he was holding in his anger, causing a few choice words and a grimace at the irritation and mess caused by his distraction.

Sirius repaired it and cleaned up the parchment while James cleaned his hand. "But…"

"But we couldn't have done otherwise, I know, I know. He's our friend, after all. But we gave him hope when he didn't have any. I'm afraid I don't hold out much for him when he's out there."

"He could find a muggle job."

"With no schooling? Not much of one. And exchange rates are murder, you know that. He won't be able to save even with a steady job, and what little he has saved won't last long."

"He could save more if he would just accept the blasted key and move in with me," Sirius growled. "What do I need with all that space, anyway?"

"I think the initial plan was for one of us to be able to crash with you if tossed out on our ears by a bird, or completely trashed."

Sirius flushed a bit.

James quirked a brow, and then smirked. "Or not. Planning on inviting him even then, were you Padfoot?"

"Well… I'd hoped. He and I… we're sort of codependent, Prongs. I need him. He gives me an audience to my jocularity, reality to my insanity. He stops me from being stupid just by being calm, and makes me think when I'd rather just fly off…"

James quickly cleared his throat when Sirius's eyes darkened with self-berating memories. "Yes, well. He always has, hasn't he?"

"Yes. Exactly what I mean. He makes me eat when I would be too excited to do so. Gets me something to soothe hangovers before I can more than moan and groan dramatically a few minutes. Reminds me what homework is due when, what classes have exams coming up—even those he's not in. He gets me to talk when I want to sulk but need to get it out, and and…"

James smiled. "And he's just a really good friend."

Sirius let out a frustrated noise that was close to a growl. "It's more than that."

James quirked a brow.

"No," Sirius ground out. "At least," he frowned, "I don't think so. It's really hard to tell with Moony… about almost everything."

James shrugged. "So, was there a point to that rambling?"

"Of course there might be."

James snorted, and quickly ducked to laugh into his sleeve. He coughed a few times and straightened, blinking owlishly until the steam receded from his glasses. "And it might be what, exactly?" he asked, laughter still wriggling through the words.

A sigh. "I need him. He needs me."

James was silent.

Sirius took this as a dissent, of sorts, and rather than wait for the argument, he launched into his reasons. "I know I've not always been the best mate he could have…" His eyes focused on something distant for an instant before snapping back to James. "But I make him eat when he's beginning to feel the effects, I take notes for him, cover for him, sneak him chocolate when he's stuck in the infirmary. I read to him when he's too tired, I carry him up when he falls asleep over his books in the common room."

James started to open his mouth.

Sirius plowed over him. "Yes, I _know_ he does the same to me. Although it's rarely been over books. Anyway. But more than all that—he needs me to need him. And I do. So it works."

James tilted his head to the side, before nodding. "Okay, everything there makes sense. Can't say I'd have pieced it together like that, but I think you're right. Or at least not completely wrong. So why's he sad then, Oh Knower of All Things Moony?"

"I really think he expects me to stop needing him."

With a frown, James sat back in his chair, and finally glanced back at the librarian, who was watching them suspiciously. With a wry grin he gathered his books, and motioned Sirius to do the same. After checking out their books under her stern gaze, they made for their dorm room while James considered. "That could be," James admitted at last, after the door closed behind them. "Or," he countered even as Sirius checked to make sure Remus wasn't behind the closed curtains around his bed, "he could just be nostalgic. We all are, Sirius. Graduating is a big thing, and it's not so far off. Merlin, _I'm_ already missing us, and we're still here."

Sirius ran a hand through his hair. "Well, it could be," he admitted grudgingly.

"But you don't think it is."

"No."

James sighed and sat down after stacking his books on his trunk. "Why not?" he asked, loosening his tie and undoing the first button of his shirt.

Sirius seemed to think it a good idea, as he ripped his tie off entirely, tossing it lazily at his bed. "Because he never looks at you the same."

"Should I be worried at how much you've been watching him?"

Sirius rolled his eyes and waved a dismissive hand, resuming his absent pacing.

James smiled slightly at seeing the snooty pureblood upbringing coming through. It happened only when Sirius was truly distracted—when he was both upset and distracted, as he was now, his words gained that clipped sardonic quality that always made James's fingers curl into a fist, just _itching_ to bash an arrogant nose in. It was usually a Slytherin, but Sirius could pull out any aspect of his heritage at will, if it suited him.

"I watch everyone, you know that. If you don't, you're an idiot, considering I told you months before she agreed to go out with you that she would."

James tapped his fingers against his thigh, sighing as Sirius started to get off topic again… though he really wasn't sure there _was_ a topic, truly. "Padfoot."

Sirius growled and transformed to pace a few aggressive turns before returning to human form, sitting with a hollow thud on his own trunk across from James. He ran his hands through his shaggy hair before letting his head hang between them. "I just realized it over the summer, when Remus and Peter visited my flat. Peter looked scared half to death, and Remus looked like he'd been promised hot double dark chocolate on a winter's eve and was given newt eye stew instead. Remus and I are codependent. Peter and you… were."

Now James frowned truly, not just in thought. "What?" That couldn't be right…

Sirius sighed at his disbelief. "You needed Peter to tag along and be in awe of you and tell you that you were brilliant and to laugh at all your jokes and all your pranks and to always tell you that you were right—I don't know if he or Remus had it better, putting up with us."

"Sirius—"

"Do you suppose that they just sat down one day and said, 'Look mate, those two daft things need serious looking after. Do you want the one with glasses, or shall I?' Because I've really been wondering if there was a conversation or if they just agreed who got which of us without ever discussing it."

"Really, Padfoot, I don't know how you come up with this stuff sometimes, but I—"

"James," Sirius broke in, sounding exasperated.

James blinked at hearing Sirius address him by his given name for the first time in months.

"I'm _serious_ about this. I really am. They took care of us, gave us what we needed. And now that we're about to get out into the world, where does that leave them? Remus… I'm working on him. I'll whine about missing his snorting growls as he sleeps, or about him folding his clothing after he takes it off, and complain about having to clean and cook so maybe he'll consider moving in just so I can be taken care of—which would be a bonus but I really just need to know that _he's_ taken care of… But what about Peter? You haven't really needed him since Lily gave you an honest smile. Your head was in the clouds for several weeks, and then all your free time was filled with your 'darling Lily'. Where was Peter?"

James rubbed the back of his neck. "Look, I know it was hard on all of you when I…"

"When you abandoned us for a bird?" Sirius smiled crookedly. "I knew it would happen eventually, and I knew it'd be you. I'm still too antsy to settle on one person, and Remus is too damned skittish. The only way he'll ever get married is if she knew before they started dating that he's a werewolf, because I really don't think he'd ever willingly tell again."

James half-smiled. "I still remember thinking he was having a heart-attack when we confronted him."

Sirius's chuckle was brittle. "Yes. How much worse, now?"

James sighed. "If you're trying to depress me, Sirius, it's working."

"No. Not really. I just… was wondering. It used to be that Peter looked after you, and you'd let him. That Remus looked after me and I after him. But now that Lily looks after you, and you look after her, that leaves Peter straight out. And Remus is so damned proud he won't consider living with me even if I make it out like I'll die without him… until he has no other choice."

James ran a hand through his hair, absently messing it up more than it usually was. "Keep after him, Sirius. Give him the key as an emergency stop, if nothing else, and ask him every couple weeks—but time it properly, won't you? Not right after someone finds out and fires him."

"I'm not a complete idiot, James."

"No," James agreed, looking rather worried as he stared at one of the other beds. He bit his lip. "You're not."


End file.
